My Last Day
by Michoou
Summary: Katniss' father, Mr Everdeen died in a terrible tragedy. Here's his story... Rated T to be safe
1. Night of the Hunter

_Disclaimer: I'm not Suzanne Collins… So I don't own the Hunger Games._

**Note: This is going to be the account of Katniss' father's death from his POV. Kinda morbid, I know, but enjoy anyways XD**

**NIGHT OF THE HUNTER**

I wake at an ungodly hour, not unusual to me, to prepare myself for yet another day in the mines. I live in the slum area of District 12 known as the Seam; this is where most of the miners live. District 12's industry is coal mining and the majority of its inhabitants work in the mines.

I glance around our small cabin, the corners blackened with coal dust. My wife lies in our bed next to me, her blond hair fanned out around her. I still can never get over the fact that she ever fell in love with the likes of me.

She is the daughter of the apothecary, and had lived in the nicer part of the district where the merchants, those who did not have to work in the mines, lived. To begin with, she had flowing blond waves of hair, and fair skin with magnificent, sparkling blue eyes, while everyone in the Seam had olive skin, dark, thick hair and brown or grey eyes.

I look over to the bed beside ours, in the small room. It holds our two daughters. I know they are both going to be beautiful when they grow up.

The eldest resembles me with her long dark hair, olive skin and striking grey eyes. Her features though are much more delicate and sharp than mine.

The younger child, she is only seven years old, has small blond curls that frame her face, the most white and porcelain skin, with big, clear blue eyes. Her sister is four years older than her and they could be no more different.

Already in looks they contrast but it does not end there. Our first child is fierce, with a strong will and likes to be independent, while her baby sister is practically the opposite.

We named them Katniss and Primrose, due to my extensive visits to the forest that surrounded District 12. I supply the majority of our food and medical herbs for my wife's small apothecary business from my ventures into the woods. It is illegal to hunt and barely anyone ventures outside of the fence surrounding the district.

It is a high chain link fence that is supposed to be electrified but barely is, due to the pitiful amount of electricity we are supplied with here in District 12. The fence is supposed to keep out wild animals that would eat us but it also stops people from wandering away, and has imposed a fear of the unknown inside the people of Panem.

I swing my feet over the side of the bed and quickly pull on a pair of dark pants, and my tall leather hunting boots that come up to my knee. I had originally gotten them from someone who used to use them for horse riding – a coyote that had snuck under the fence into the Meadow had attacked their horse – and they had no use for them.

The boots had seemed sturdy enough for hunting, with a good solid bottom, a low heel and soft worn in leather. I got up and quietly walked to the other room of our small shack. There I threw some wood into the now smoldering embers in our fireplace and prodded it with a stick, to start the fire again. I then grabbed my bag I used to carry my finds, slipped on my hunting jacket and walked out into the cold, brisk air of January.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, the wind flew up and wrapped itself around me, chilling me to the bone. This was the bitterest January I could remember. No winter had been this terrible in years.

The snow blows up around me and I can barely see three feet in front of me. I stumble past the last few houses till I reach the Meadow. It was bleached white with snow, and left untouched. I hope the blizzard will cover my tracks through the crisp snow. I start through the knee-deep snow and slowly inch my way along until I reach the fence.

I pause briefly to listen for the telltale buzzing, which means the fence is live and I would be electrocuted, and possibly die. It is almost impossible to hear anything over the howling wind but I decide it's safe enough, so I wriggle my way underneath a loose part of the fence.

Once I am outside of District 12 my spirits seem to lift almost instantly. I can feel the freedom of being out in the woods. No watching eyes of the Capitol and their Peacekeepers, just the solidarity of nature.

Once I reach the cover of the trees, safe from the blizzard, I retrieve a bow and a sheath of arrows from a hollow in a dead tree. I sling the sheath over my shoulder, reach back for an arrow and set it in my bow. I then venture further into the woods.

I check my snares and find that I have only caught one rabbit. We don't have much food left in the house so I decide to travel deeper into the trees. The thicker the forest gets, the less snow there is on the ground, so I am able to collect a few greens to cook in a soup and few healing herbs in one thicket. Most plants have died by now though.

I suddenly hear a rustling in a bush to my left. I slowly turn, being extra cautious to be light on my feet. I raise my bow, pointing the arrow in the direction of the bush when out pops a wild boar.

I take a second to aim precisely, then I let loose the arrow and it arks gracefully through the air and hits the hog cleanly in the neck. It falls paralyzed to the ground.

Next I slip my knife out from my belt and calmly walk over to the boar to slit its throat. It sounds cruel but actually it makes the death as quick and painless as possible.

I drain the blood into the snow, then skin the animal of its hide and place that inside my hunting bag, then I quickly cut up the meat and leave the bones next to the bush. I pack up my equipment and move on.

I head through the forest until I reach a lake surrounded by trees. At the edge of the lake there is an old house made out of concrete. It is even smaller than our house in the Seam, only one small room. It used to have four windows but the glass is missing from three. There is nothing to the house except for a fireplace that still works.

There is a large pile of wood in one of the corners, that Katniss and I had collected together one lazy summer day three years ago.

A few foundations left of other houses that used to be near the lake, overgrown with foliage. I suspect that a long time ago there were a lot of buildings here, and that people came here to play and fish in the lake.  
>Inside the house I start a fire in hearth and sit by it warming myself. I take out a small metal mug and fill it with water from my flask. I then take a stick lying to the side of the fireplace and prod some burning embers out of the fire. I place the mug over top with a few herbs inside, letting it warm.<p>

I am up earlier than anybody else in all of District 12 would be. The few other hunters in town would not be out on a day like today, they would spend it sleeping as late as they could until they had to get to the mines.

I look out one of the small windows and see it is still pitch black out, same as when I woke up, which was incredibly early. The miners of District 12 rise with the sun, while I wake up a couple hours before, so I can get to the woods to check my snares and gather a few plants.

In the winter though, those living in the Seam almost never see the sun, as we were down in the mines before it rises, and come home long after it has set. Our world is constantly black.

Today though I was up earlier than usual. Last night I had had trouble sleeping and when I awoke early, I figured I might as well use the extra time for hunting. Anyways, I enjoyed being the in the woods.

The snow outside is starting to let up. The wind is dying down. I pick up my hot mug of herb-water and take a long swig, the liquid burns my throat but it feels good. It warms me from the inside out.

Outside the sky is beginning to lighten to a dark shade, from pitch back. I decide to head back home. I do not want to be late for work.

As I stand up, gulp down the last drops of herb-water and pack my bag, I take a look around the little cabin.

The concrete walls and floor are pretty much bare. There is dust settled in the corners and on top of the simple stone fireplace. In one corner on the back wall, is the large stack of firewood. It is two feet in height and extends halfway across the wall to the opposite corner.

In another corner near the door, rests a small broom consisting of twigs tied together with some straggly twine. I had made the broom for Katniss, for when I would bring her to the lake with me in the summer.

When we were finished swimming lessons in the lake, we would retreat to the cabin to dry off and have a snack consisting of finds on the hike here. Katniss would play house with the broom while I would prepare our snack and sort through the game.

I put out the fire, sling my bag across my shoulder, and then push back out into the bitter cold.

**I hope you liked it. Should I continue or not? **


	2. Never Say Goodbye

_Disclaimer: Again, I'm not Suzanne Collins…_

**NEVER SAY GOODBYE**

When I finally reach the fence that surrounds District 12, after the long trek back from the lake cabin, the snow is falling in thick clumps. I pause momentarily to listen for the unnatural buzzing but as usual, there is no sound except for the distant thump of snow falling off the branch of a tree in the forest. I crawl under the fence and drag my pack behind me. Continuing on my way home, the wind pushes against me and it takes all my effort just to take one step. Once I finally make it to our cabin, I tumble inside and slam the door shut behind me, blocking out the howling wind. I take out the few plants and the pieces of wild boar meat and put them away. I then return to the hog's hide, lifting it gently out of the bag and unfolding it, laying it out on the small wooden table – where we eat and prepare our meals – to air out.

Removing my hunting jacket and hanging it on the wall to dry, I proceed to strip off my hunting boots that are also soaking wet from the snow, and place them next to the smoldering hearth to dry. I also remove my wet, wool socks and hang them above the fireplace. I then head back into the bedroom and open the small chest of drawers and remove my blue denim overalls, blackened with coal dust, and a light grey wool sweater. I slip on the sweater over my white, thick undershirt, and remove my damp pants, to replace them with my overalls. I pull on a clean, dry pair of dark grey woolen socks. They are itchy but keep my feet warm in the damp cold of the mines in winter.

I walk back into the main room of our cabin, and head to the back of the house. There is a basin we use to hold water and my mirror I use for shaving. I grab the bucket of water we keep beside the fire overnight, to stop it from freezing and pour a small amount into the basin. I pick up a bar of sweet, floral smelling soap from the side of the white, porcelain bowl. Soap is a luxury here in district 12. This bar was relatively cheap but took a lot of trading at the Hob to be able to buy it. The Hob is the black market in District 12. It is housed in an old coal warehouse that has long since been abandoned. Coal dust resides in every corner. The bar of soap is small and from daily use, has shrunk even more. It takes effort to start a lather but once I have my face covered in soap, I switch the soap for my razor and watch myself in the mirror as I cut away the soap in straight lines. The mirror shines like crystal as it does every morning. It is the only sparkling clean item in the household. My youngest daughter, Prim, cleans the mirror every night before she goes to bed. She understands how much I dislike the coal dust that settles on everything in District 12. How it penetrates our lives.

After I finish shaving my chin smooth, I rinse and drain the water from the basin. I walk back to the "kitchen" and pack a small leather sack with some pickings for a small lunch. I place it in one of the large, baggy pockets of my overalls. I sit down in a wooden chair by the door and pull on my leather work boots. The chair creaks beneath my weight as I shift forwards to lace up the front of the boots. They are soft, black leather, though they might have been another colour years ago and our now infested by coal dust. The boots hit at a third way up my calf. They are comfortable and are easy to navigate the dark mines with. I pull the laces tight and do neat double-knotted bows on each shoe. I slip on a dark grey felt hat, which is tinged with black soot. I slip on fingerless, wool gloves that used to be grey but are practically black now.

I tip toe back into the bedroom. The sky outside the window is starting to become grey. I use my hunter tread to move soundlessly towards the cot where both my daughters are swaddled in a thick blanket. Prim stirs in her sleep, her blond curls bouncing around her face. I pull the blanket up closer to her chin and kiss her on the cheek. Prim's delicate eyes flutter open.

"Daddy," she murmurs softly. "What's happening?"

"I'm only leaving for work, sweetie," I reassure her.

"I love you Daddy."

"I love you too," I reply softly. "Now go back to sleep."

She complies and pulls the blankets tighter around herself. Soon enough she's breathing heavily. Next I turn to Katniss. Her black hair is fanned out around her in loose waves, due to wearing her hair constantly in a long braid down her back. I lightly brush a stray hair out of her face. I lean in and whisper:

"Bye, sweetheart."

"Dad," she moans.

I chuckle silently. Katniss usually doesn't wake when I leave for the mines, they don't have to wake for school for almost another hour but today she half-opens her eyes and props herself up on one elbow.

"Dad… I love you!" She whispers as loud as she dares. Then she throws her arms around my neck and buries her head in my chest. I gently stroke her hair until she pulls back. Her big, grey eyes look puzzled, almost worried or concerned, though they are half closed, as she still seems to be practically asleep so I may just be imagining it.

"I love you dad."

"I love you too Katniss. Now get some more sleep."

"Alright."

With that she lies back in bed. I cross the room and lean over my beautiful wife. I run my fingers through her soft blond hair. Then lightly brush her lips with mine and lean close to her ear to whisper almost silently:  
>"Have a good day. Look after the kids. I love you."<p>

When I turn back around I find Katniss is still half-awake. I go and kneel in front of her side of the bed. Her eyelids droop over her striking grey eyes. I stroke her hair back from her face.  
>"Katniss, everything's fine. I have food for us, we have water, wood for warmth and the coal I track in on my clothing," I whisper. "I'm only going to be gone for the day. Like I am every day. Don't get yourself so worked up. Now go back to sleep or you'll have to catch up on your rest in class!"<br>I shake my head when I say the last bit, and chuckle a little. Katniss simple nods her head, closes her eyes and sighs. Almost instantly she's asleep. I leave the house and carefully shut the front door behind me. Again I am attacked by the vicious wind. Without my extra layer from my hunting coat, it feels as if I am standing naked in the wind, I am so cold. I wrap my arms across my body and walk swiftly in the direction of the mines.

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and told me to continue. I'm so, so sorry for not updating sooner, life was really busy these last several months! I'll try to update as often as possible.  
>Everyone else, please R&amp;R thanks!<strong>


	3. Disaster

**Since I haven't updated in forever, I decided to give you two chapters in a row. Enjoy!**

**DISASTER**

I passed through the empty town, the shops in the square almost seemed abandoned with no lights on and the wind banging on the shutters. The snow lay in the drifts against the sides of buildings, blown there by the strong currents of air. Whatever snow was left in the middle of square was swept up in the air and tossed back down.

As I near the mines, I begin to see other signs of life. Slowly out of the snowstorm a few other humans are seen trudging towards the black tunnel – the entrance to the mineshaft.

A few feet within the entrance, the air become still, the daylight is already blocked out as well. The hoards of District 12 men plunder down under the dull lamp light, further into the mouth of the tunnel. After a couple minutes of walking everyone reaches the main atrium, which is just a large cavernous room, the stream of people split up. I head to one of the small rooms off of the atrium allotted for my crew to collect my gear and safety cap.

The mine was organized by a few large "regions" which are known as seams. There are about 4 of them in the mine. My crew worked in the Five Quarter Seam. Within each seam the many tunnels were split up into different "districts". There were about 5 or 6 in each seam. Since pretty much everyone that lived in the Seam in District 12 worked in the mines, that was how our area earned that name.

There were about 12 people on each crew so we did not all work together in the tunnels, and split up throughout our district. My usual partner for work was Arnar but he had come down with a bad case of pneumonia, meaning he was stuck at home. Today I was partnered with Bryn-Jones Hawthorne, though everyone just called him Jones. The three of us had been good friends for years.

"Everdeen," Jones said as he came up to me. "We're going down to Duckbills you and I today, 'cause the Six Bells flooded last night with all the bad snow we've been havin'. They split up the Six Bells crew and sent us off to different districts. We're lucky we're still in Five Quarter."

I nodded my acknowledged, and we left the gear room to advance silently down the corridor to take us to the Five Quarter Seam. Jones and I squeezed in alongside many other workmen into the rickety cage that would lower us down into the dark shafts. Everyone started switching on their cap lamps as we descended into the damp darkness. When we arrived at the bottom, the twenty or so men disbranched and headed off to collect the machinery needed as well as other gear that was too heavy to take in the elevator.

Jones and I got a mechanical coat cutter, a large, heavy machine which did most of the mining work for us but was still incredibly difficult to work and maneuver in the small tunnels of the mine. We then headed down into the tunnel that said "Duckbills" over the top of the ominous opening.

The air quality was not that great, it was dry and filled with coal-dust, but we still had to travel down a steep incline to reach were we would be mining.

Once we were deep below the surface, Jones and I walked along corridors of dirt until we reached the section we were to mine today. It was incredibly dark down here. Even with our lamp, and cap lights the darkness still pushed in on us from every corner of the tunnel. It was almost suffocating.

Jones set up the machine we would use to mine the coal, while I undid a sack we had grabbed as well, that was full of more coal. This was used for fuelling the machine. The coal we were given though was the lowest quality mined, that no one would dare ship out to the other Districts in Panem.

I shoveled some coal into the furnace of the machine and we fired it up. Breaking the eerie silence of the mines, with a low hum and filling the air with coal-dust that had settled over night. Being a coal miner is a dirty and horrible job. You are covered in soot by the end of the day, and breathing is difficult to muster at times.

Jones and I stood off to the side and watched the machine as we talked about daily life. We discussed the weather. How we both were eager for summer since there was not the pain of attempting to heat the little shacks of the Seam, as well as there being a slight more abundance of food in the District.

This lead to Jones asking me about how my hunting was going. Jones was not one of the few other men who ventured out into the forest that surrounded District 12, unlike my usual mining buddy, Arnar. I did sell Jones some of my extra meat whenever I was able to spare.

Jones had a large family with three children, and his wife was pregnant with a fourth. I always tried to provide them with a little extra to eat when I could, since Jones and his eldest son were the only two who could provide for the family.

All of a sudden there was a loud thud that came from the coal-cutter, the hissing sound of escaping air.

"Oh no! I think we've hit some firedamp!" I cried.

"We better run for it," Jones warned. "Its gonna blow!"

Without a second thought, the two of us hurried up the tunnel to hopefully save ourselves and warn the others mining in our district.

But it was too late.

We heard an explosion from behind us, and then the rocks above rained down upon us.

The world went black.

**I hoped you enjoyed the story, now that the action is picking up. It's almost finished, there's only one or two more chapters left!**

**Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to review!**


	4. Violent Dreams

**Hello readers! So this chapter may seem kind of morbid in a way but I thought it gave the plot a bit of a twist in style. Also sorry this chapter is shorter than usual but I didn't think there was much more I could build on, and I promise the next one will be longer!**

**VIOLENT DREAMS**

I wake up in a strange place. It was a meadow full of light green-brown grass that went as far as the eye could see. The grass was knee high and swayed to and fro in a gentle breeze that danced around me.

The sky was a striking pastel baby blue. There was not a single in its entire expanse.

I turn around a full circle to get a look at my surroundings. Nothing. It was all the same. Even with the serenity of this place, there was an unsettling eeriness to it as well. There was not a single sound in the whole expanse of the field except for the whisper of the grass rustling. A shiver runs down my spine.

I walk forwards a few steps when all of a sudden out of the grass rises my wife and two daughters, as well as Jones and Arnar – my two closest friends. I'm about to run forwards and greet my loved ones in our new found freedom from the Capitol when a flock of birds violent escape from the meadow's grass.

Slowly the sky begins to shift to a dark gray, turning the world a similar shade with it. I stand rooted to the spot.

When I look back at others, there are tears streaming down all of their faces. None of them move, their hands remain by their sides while the waterfalls of tears continue to stream down their cheeks.

Their faces stay unchanging.

I look back at the changing world. The sky is still cloudless but even so, has turned a churning grey. The grass now moves in the wind with even more urgency, blowing coal dust off of my overalls and carrying it away into infinity.

The wind howls around the five other figures as well, and blows Prim's fair blonde hair across her face.

Slowly all of their faces, in unison it seems, begin to change into a look of pure agony. All their eyes slowly moved up my face from staring blankly into my eyes to gaze upon my forehead.

I cautiously reach up to brush my forehead with my fingers. I can feel a warm liquid above my brow. Sweat maybe? But to my horror as I continue to move up my face I find a large wound. I slowly draw my hands away to see them covered in my own blood.

I felt no pain before but now my head felt like it was going to explode, the pain unbearable. Just before I collapsed, the five figures burst into blood curdling screams.

**Thanks again for reading! And if you haven't already, I'd love if you took the time to review.**

**Anyways what did you guys think of the change up for this chapter?  
>The final one should be up in a few days hopefully, and will be much longer! :)<strong>


	5. Two Small Deaths

**This is the last chapter everyone! Thanks reading. It would mean so much if you could write one last review :)**

**Disclaimer: One last time, I'm not Suzanne Collins so I don't own the Hunger Games, only my one character I made up, Arnar XD**

* * *

><p><strong>TWO SMALL DEATHS<strong>

I jolt awake and emerge from underneath a pile of rubble coughing. I feel around in the fallen rocks for my cap lamp. I find it in underneath a relatively large rock, making the actual cap part impossible to wear but I flick the switch and the lamp still works.

I look around in the haze of unsettled coal dust to see where Jones is. I hear a small, constricted voice calling out to me, with muffled fits of coughing in between.

I slowly inch my way over to the source of the sound, where I find Jones lying half buried under a pile of rocks. There was large boulder on top of his left leg. I clear the rubble lying on the rest of his body so that he can breathe.

"Hang on a moment," I assure him. "I'll get the rock off your leg."

I search around me and find a metal rod lying on the ground, which I use to pry the rock off. I help Jones sit up against the wall of the tunnel. He cries out in pain when he moves his leg. I assume that the rock that fell on it broke it.

His cap lamp is nowhere to be found so our only source of light is from my battered one. My head is in terrible pain by now. When Jones finally regains consciousness from his fit of pain, he stares in horror at my forehead.

I reach up and feel a hot cool liquid. No doubt my own blood. Slowly reaching further up, I find a large gash across my entire forehead.

"We have to bandage that to keep it from getting infected by all this coal dust," Jones remarks while waving his hand at the general air around us.

He rips off part of his shirt and gingerly ties it around my head while I wince at the pain.

The two of us sit propped up against the wall of the tunnel in silence, trying to get over our shock. My hand slowly reaches into my pocket and I pull out a creased and wrinkled photograph. It is of my wife.

The photo was taken back around the time when I first met her. My wife is sitting in the small back garden of her childhood home behind her father's apothecary business. She looked young and lively, with her bouncy, flowing blond curls framing her pale and delicate face. She is smiling and there is a bright twinkle in her clear blue eyes.

I smooth the photograph with my thumb. My mind begins to wander to the possibilities of something happening to me down here in the mines, and the chance that I might never escape. I cleared my throat.

"Just in case we never get found Jones," I say in a raspy voice. "I want to show you this here photograph of someone I know."

I move the photo of my wife into the light for Jones to see.

"I can't remember if you've ever met my wife Jones. But here she is. She means the world to me."

We both stare at the photo in silence.

"Y'know, I wonder what it's like on the outside. I hope the explosion didn't affect anything on the surface," Jones mumbles.

I nod my head in response. More time passes, with Jones and I sitting deep within our own thoughts.

I strain my ears to hear any sound at all the might indicate rescue crews. Maybe someone is already digging through the rubble to reach us, deep down below the earth in the Duckbills mines. Or perhaps not, maybe they have all just given up already. I had no idea how much time had passed since the explosion. They could have gone home to bed by now, thinking that we must be dead.

All of a sudden, Jones cries out:

"HELP! We're in here! HELP"

Instantly I yell at him to quiet down.

"Jones we can't go talking so loud, yer gonna cause a landslide," I hiss.

We have been sitting in this small tunnel for countless hours on end. My head is throbbing with unimaginable pain and I am starting to haze in and out of consciousness.

The air has become stale and the coal dust that was disturbed by the eruption has settled within out lungs.

Our situation has become more hopeless, since I know that the longer it takes for rescue crews to find you the less chance they will actually make it. I silently pray for my family.

I begin to wonder whether any other miners were able to make it out of here alive, or whether we will all be trapped for eternity.

Suddenly, I'm snapped out of my thoughts. I feel a slight rumble in the ground below that continues to build, until the whole tunnel is shaking.

Jones and I attempt to stumble to our feet, sharing the same look of horror on our faces. But before we can do anything in our pitiful attempt to escape, there is a huge blast and everything is destroyed.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this story! One last review from you would be greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed my story :)<strong>

**So if no one knew, I was really inspired by music for this story. So here's the playlist that kinda went with each chapter.**

**Night of the Hunter – 30 Seconds to Mars**

**Never Say Goodbye – Bon Jovi**

**Disaster – Besnard Lakes**

**Violent Dreams – Crystal Castles**

**Two Small Deaths – Wye Oak**

**And overall I was first inspired to write this by the Bee Gees' song **_**New York Mining Disaster 1941**_**. It's one of my all time favourites by them! **

**So thanks again everyone for reading! :)**


End file.
